Apparently, I’m an Author Now
I fucking hate marketing. I hate self-promotion. But apparently, somewhere between making sell sheets, sending books to festivals, volunteering at booths, and planning a motorcycle trip to Tucson around a fucking book festival, something changed. I finally stopped treating writing like something I do and started accepting that being an author is part of who I am.
On Gratitude, Fear, and Finally Finishing the Damn Book
After months of chaos, healing, and unexpected clarity, I reread my memoir from beginning to end — and realized it’s finally fucking done. What comes next is terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure, but I’m stepping into it head-on.